Road Work
I've said before that if the road to hell is paved with good intentions, then I have personally created a multi-lane superhighway with an express lane, a high-occupancy vehicle lane, several overpasses, some roadside attractions, and enough leftover paving to have a sideroad to Peoria. And back. (I'm not at all sure why the road to Peoria would be paved with good intentions....perhaps the good people of Peoria are have a hot, swinging time I know nothing about. But anyway.)
In the last day or so, I've added a couple more exits to that superhighway, as well as a 30 mile, waist-high retaining wall. To wit:
Intention 1: I was going to post yesterday. It was going to be really funny--I had it all figured out. (Yeah, I know--it's easy to be funny when the proof isn't actually posted.) And I even recognized that I might get home late, so I planned to sneak over to the library at lunchtime and post from there--so good were my intentions (BIG truck load of concrete there). BUT, apparently people who come to a doctor's office seem to think that the things that brought them there--like life-threatening allergies and not being able to breathe from asthma--are more important than a knitting blog (I know, right?) and so I ended up working through exactly enough of my lunch hour to make it impossible to get to the library via any method but teleportation. It is so wrong that I don't have a teleporter.
Intention 2: I was then going to post last night after I got back from seeing the Yarn Harlot at Third Place Books. But the bookstore people, apparently also thinking that there are things more important than my blog (which is weird, because wouldn't you think a bookstore would ENCOURAGE reading?) decided that the way to handle the signing was to allow all the people who attended their knitting/book group (which I'd join in a heartbeat if the bookstore weren't 50 minutes away from my house) could get in the signing line first. Then, the people who bought Stephanie's latest book there could get in line second. Well, and third, fourth, and so on through about 8 million. Not that I would ever exaggerate. Not in a million, trillion years. Anway, since I am not in the knit group and since I was not getting my own copy of the book signed (it was a complex yarn and book deal in which I traded yarn to Marti to get my book signed when she went to sock camp and then Marianne mailed me her book to get signed at this event and I have no idea who's book Marianne will end up getting signed but I think this thing could take on a life of its own), this meant waiting in line knitting for a good while.
I have to say "a good while" because it was all knitters and so it was good. Really good, and I met some awesome people. But I got home late and since I had to get up early this morning (5:00 a.m. early--somewhere around "man, it's still freaking DARK outside on a Saturday!" early), ended up going straight to bed.
A little side ramp on that highway--I intended to get some good sleep, too. But there is much excitement in my life at present (I'll get to that) and sleep was somewhere out partying, possibly at the places my muse was frequenting there for a bit.
Intention 3: I was going to post pictures today that were taken last night amongst the throng of knitters and, of course, of the good lady herself. You will notice here a stunning absence of such photos. This is because I remembered a change of clothes (had to go straight from work and, while I imagine that no one would care if I turned up in scrubs, it does feel a tad self-conscious to walk around in big jammies with my name pinned to my left breast), remembered an extra bottle of water, remembered my knitting bag, remembered Marianne's book, remembered a little baggie of granola to nibble on, and even remembered the truffle brownies I made for the Harlot. Did I remember the camera? I did not. This was a shameful moment.
Intention 4: I intended to put up photos this morning of the many squares I've received since I wrote you last--my own dear mother-in-law (who really doesn't need the whole "in-law" thing on there--she's my other mom and I love her to pieces) sent me a box of 21 squares which, with her last package of about 10, means that she has singlehandedly made her own miners blanket (well, okay, she probably used both hands...but still) and Paula in Iowa sent me a box of six squares and the Yellowstone Unravellers sent me a box of 14 squares with a promise of more to come--and I even have taken pictures of all these wonders. Apparently I can perform a bit better when the items to be photographed and the item with which to photograph them are already in the same building. But it is, as mentioned, o'crap o'clock in the morning, Mr. K is still sleeping, and he was the one who used the camera last and I don't know exactly--or even inexactly--where he put it. (I suspect he was using it to take pictures of the knife he's been making which even I find absolutely beautiful--which is saying something coming from someone who usually prefers sharp things when they have loops of yarn on them.)
Still, at least those pictures do exist and you'll get them when I come back tomorrow. I figure sometime between here and there--especially since we'll have six hours in the car together--I should be able to pry the information about the camera's whereabouts out of him. I have brownes left...I may bribe him.
Intention 5: I intended to post the wonderfully funny stuff I thought of yesterday, this morning. But seeing as how I've now written a novella or so about the things I was GOING to do...well, let's just say it's not every writer who can fill an entry about nothing but what she didn't do. This is probably a good thing. Possibly a great thing. As it happens, though, I can remember what I was going to write, so you'll get that when I get back tomorrow, too.
You may be wondering where I'm going (assuming you don't know me personally and haven't already driven you nuts with my happy bouncing) but alas, you will have to wait for that, too. It's a surprise. But I swear I'll take pictures and tell you all about it. Some clues:
I'm going with Mr. K to an event of his that happens to be in the same city as someone I've been wanting to meet.
You know her, at least in the same way that I do.
It is not Marianne, whom I've met once and who, sadly, cannot fly across the country to join us. But the person is someone she'd enjoy meeting, too.
We'll be yarn crawling (yeah, like THAT narrows it down).
I'm not flying or taking a train anywhere--so it's somewhere I can get to by car and be back tomorrow. I do have to leave the state, though.
If I bring my drop spindle, she swears she'll teach me to spin. I pity her for the torment this will likely visit upon her...but not so much that I won't take her up on it.
I'm off to exercise at this ungodly hour, and then hit the road. It's well worth it--WELL worth it. Just wait till you see--I know you'll agree. And don't worry. I'll bribe the camera out of him in plenty of time to take pictures of.....?
In the last day or so, I've added a couple more exits to that superhighway, as well as a 30 mile, waist-high retaining wall. To wit:
Intention 1: I was going to post yesterday. It was going to be really funny--I had it all figured out. (Yeah, I know--it's easy to be funny when the proof isn't actually posted.) And I even recognized that I might get home late, so I planned to sneak over to the library at lunchtime and post from there--so good were my intentions (BIG truck load of concrete there). BUT, apparently people who come to a doctor's office seem to think that the things that brought them there--like life-threatening allergies and not being able to breathe from asthma--are more important than a knitting blog (I know, right?) and so I ended up working through exactly enough of my lunch hour to make it impossible to get to the library via any method but teleportation. It is so wrong that I don't have a teleporter.
Intention 2: I was then going to post last night after I got back from seeing the Yarn Harlot at Third Place Books. But the bookstore people, apparently also thinking that there are things more important than my blog (which is weird, because wouldn't you think a bookstore would ENCOURAGE reading?) decided that the way to handle the signing was to allow all the people who attended their knitting/book group (which I'd join in a heartbeat if the bookstore weren't 50 minutes away from my house) could get in the signing line first. Then, the people who bought Stephanie's latest book there could get in line second. Well, and third, fourth, and so on through about 8 million. Not that I would ever exaggerate. Not in a million, trillion years. Anway, since I am not in the knit group and since I was not getting my own copy of the book signed (it was a complex yarn and book deal in which I traded yarn to Marti to get my book signed when she went to sock camp and then Marianne mailed me her book to get signed at this event and I have no idea who's book Marianne will end up getting signed but I think this thing could take on a life of its own), this meant waiting in line knitting for a good while.
I have to say "a good while" because it was all knitters and so it was good. Really good, and I met some awesome people. But I got home late and since I had to get up early this morning (5:00 a.m. early--somewhere around "man, it's still freaking DARK outside on a Saturday!" early), ended up going straight to bed.
A little side ramp on that highway--I intended to get some good sleep, too. But there is much excitement in my life at present (I'll get to that) and sleep was somewhere out partying, possibly at the places my muse was frequenting there for a bit.
Intention 3: I was going to post pictures today that were taken last night amongst the throng of knitters and, of course, of the good lady herself. You will notice here a stunning absence of such photos. This is because I remembered a change of clothes (had to go straight from work and, while I imagine that no one would care if I turned up in scrubs, it does feel a tad self-conscious to walk around in big jammies with my name pinned to my left breast), remembered an extra bottle of water, remembered my knitting bag, remembered Marianne's book, remembered a little baggie of granola to nibble on, and even remembered the truffle brownies I made for the Harlot. Did I remember the camera? I did not. This was a shameful moment.
Intention 4: I intended to put up photos this morning of the many squares I've received since I wrote you last--my own dear mother-in-law (who really doesn't need the whole "in-law" thing on there--she's my other mom and I love her to pieces) sent me a box of 21 squares which, with her last package of about 10, means that she has singlehandedly made her own miners blanket (well, okay, she probably used both hands...but still) and Paula in Iowa sent me a box of six squares and the Yellowstone Unravellers sent me a box of 14 squares with a promise of more to come--and I even have taken pictures of all these wonders. Apparently I can perform a bit better when the items to be photographed and the item with which to photograph them are already in the same building. But it is, as mentioned, o'crap o'clock in the morning, Mr. K is still sleeping, and he was the one who used the camera last and I don't know exactly--or even inexactly--where he put it. (I suspect he was using it to take pictures of the knife he's been making which even I find absolutely beautiful--which is saying something coming from someone who usually prefers sharp things when they have loops of yarn on them.)
Still, at least those pictures do exist and you'll get them when I come back tomorrow. I figure sometime between here and there--especially since we'll have six hours in the car together--I should be able to pry the information about the camera's whereabouts out of him. I have brownes left...I may bribe him.
Intention 5: I intended to post the wonderfully funny stuff I thought of yesterday, this morning. But seeing as how I've now written a novella or so about the things I was GOING to do...well, let's just say it's not every writer who can fill an entry about nothing but what she didn't do. This is probably a good thing. Possibly a great thing. As it happens, though, I can remember what I was going to write, so you'll get that when I get back tomorrow, too.
You may be wondering where I'm going (assuming you don't know me personally and haven't already driven you nuts with my happy bouncing) but alas, you will have to wait for that, too. It's a surprise. But I swear I'll take pictures and tell you all about it. Some clues:
I'm going with Mr. K to an event of his that happens to be in the same city as someone I've been wanting to meet.
You know her, at least in the same way that I do.
It is not Marianne, whom I've met once and who, sadly, cannot fly across the country to join us. But the person is someone she'd enjoy meeting, too.
We'll be yarn crawling (yeah, like THAT narrows it down).
I'm not flying or taking a train anywhere--so it's somewhere I can get to by car and be back tomorrow. I do have to leave the state, though.
If I bring my drop spindle, she swears she'll teach me to spin. I pity her for the torment this will likely visit upon her...but not so much that I won't take her up on it.
I'm off to exercise at this ungodly hour, and then hit the road. It's well worth it--WELL worth it. Just wait till you see--I know you'll agree. And don't worry. I'll bribe the camera out of him in plenty of time to take pictures of.....?
3 Comments:
At 7:15 AM, Marianne said…
Bless you Babe... our friend has been blogging about this upcoming visit for the past week, heh.
Can hardly wait, well plenty to keep me occupied until then... want to hear about it!
Have fun!
At 8:20 AM, ~Tonia~ said…
Your best intentions sound like my life. I plan to do things and they always take a turn in the opposite direction. *sigh*
Have a great time with .....
At 12:18 PM, Vivienne said…
I shall be at the post office with my own few squares tomorrow.
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